Why my blog posts have declined of late...

Which man are you?

Dropping Keys
by Hafiz

The small man
builds cages for everyone
he knows.
While the sage,
who has to duck his head
when the moon is low,
keeps dropping keys all night long
for the beautiful,
rowdy
prisoners.

Margie, Bobby has something to tell you.

Remember when you were little and committed a minor transgression, such as pinching your sister when she kept taunting your abundance of freckles, and a frazzled yet determined adult negotiated with you to "say you're sorry"? Usually, you ended up muttering a snide apology to avoid being further criminalized. If you happened to be the sister who was pinched, your job as the "nice", wronged person was to quote with a note of smugness, "I forgive you."

Okay, so we're taught these roles when we are youngsters, and then really never taught a very grown up way to forgive. Either we refuse to forgive people, thinking our stonewalling will somehow "show" them or we pretend that they are sooooo unimportant and insignificant in our lives that of course we forgive them, in fact, we don't even need to forgive them, because their decisions matter so little to us.

So we're going along, socially set, and then one day we hear that forgiveness is "about you", not about the other person. This new age fluff really doesn't make much sense. Those other people were the ones who were wrong, nasty, rude, insensitive clods! They should have to earn our forgiveness. Duh. Weren't these do-good forgiveness preachers ever kids?

The excerpt below is the least "do-good" and most sense-filled explanation I have read in some time on why forgiveness really is about the restoration of your soul and why unforgiveness (fortunately or unfortunately) doesn't actually affect the other person much. Also, it explains why maybe those controlling yet well-meaning adults might have had something right about the importance of "saying sorry". The excerpt is lifted straight from Sacred Intersections (Chapter 5) by Steve Adams. After you finish it, if you still want to control add some rules to your relationship crashes, consider heading over to Dr. Gary Chapman's site to find out your apology language. There is nothing like being able to tell someone who is trying to apologize: "You're doing it wrong!"  It's a useful self-awareness piece to understand why sometimes an apologize is meaningful and others times it's about as tolerable as your neighbor blaring "Blurred Lines" at 2:30am.*

Source

There are always at least three entities impacted in a relational crash. The first two are the individuals who run into each other, and the third entity is the relationship that exists between them. (Sometimes, of course, there are other relationships and individuals that are impacted as well.)

To whatever degree a person is at fault in a crash, the repair to his own personhood is his responsibility. The healing begins when he fully admits fault, expresses regret to the other person involved, and seeks forgiveness.

As for the other person--the one wronged in the crash--the only path to his personal restoration is forgiveness.

The third dimension, the relationship itself, can only be repaired when both of those personal dimensions are done--with honest regret on the one hand and forgiveness on the other. And, depending on how deep the relationship was and the severity of the crash, it may be relatively easy to pick up where you left off. Or it may take a long period of rebuilding trust for you to get back to a healthy place. 

Given that the knowledge of good and evil resides within us, it is not easy to admit our faults or to offer forgiveness. We have to work against our propensity to control things in order to do so. To admit a mistake and ask for forgiveness is to put the other person in control of the relationship. It does not, however, put them in control of you. In admitting your fault and seeking forgiveness, you are restoring your own soul. At that point, the response of the other person has no power over you. You are free to turn your heart toward them and be at rest in your own soul, regardless of how they respond.

Only the relationship itself is at risk at that point. And it's important to note that the previous level of relationship was already lost when the crash occurred. By asking for forgiveness, you are not risking anything that isn't lost already. If then other person forgives you, then you can move forward again. If not, then things merely remain where they already are. You may feel grief at the loss of the relationship, but the wellness of your own soul isn't lost.

Likewise, offering forgiveness is a personal choice that leads to freedom and wholeness in your own soul. On that level, it is independent of the other person involved. Unforgiveness, even if feels "justified", actually doesn't have any direct impact on the other person. It only gnaws away at you. If the other person doesn't admit any fault and hasn't sough forgiveness, withholding forgiveness doesn't do you any good. In fact, at that point, you have made yoru own sense of well being dependent on them. You ahve no control over whether or not they will ever admit to anything or accept any resonsibility. Instead of having power over them, you have given them power over you! You have made yourself into a victim and a slave to their choices.

Withholding forgiveness from people who have admitted their fault and asked for forgiveness has the same net effect. Their own sense of well-being isn't determined by whether or not you offer them forgiveness. So, withholding forgiveness from them will only cause bitterness in you. Many people carry a grudge--sometimes for years and years--thinking that in some way they are hurting or harming the other person. They reality is, they are only harming themselves. With forgiveness comes freedom.

-End of excerpt-

*Yes, this really happened to me. Recently. And loudly. Very. very loudly. As an affront to my femininity and humanity. Also, as an assault on my sleep. No, the neighbor has not apologized. Yes, he/she remains unforgiven. And this just proves the point! The neighbor is trolling around in relative bliss, content in his/her misogynistic mindset, whereas I sit here days later with my soul steaming, spilling my ire onto social media, breeding bitterness.

What can you do?

Note: This post in its entirety is an excerpt from She Did What She Could by Elisa Morgan. The book discusses a phrase from the story in Mark 14:3-9:

Jesus was in Bethany at the home of Simon, a man who had previously had leprosy. While he was eating, a woman came in with a beautiful alabaster jar of expensive perfume made from essence of nard. She broke open the jar and poured the perfume over his head. 

Some of those at the table were indignant. "Why waste such expensive perfume?" they asked. "It could have been sold for a year's wages and the money given to the poor!" So they scolded her harshly. 

But Jesus replied, "Leave her alone. Why criticize her for doing such a good thing to me? You will always have the poor among you, and you can help them whenever you want to. But you will not always have me. She did what she could and has anointed my body for burial ahead of time. I tell you the truth, wherever the Good News is preached throughout the world, this woman's deed will be remembered and discussed."

What if instead of waiting to be invited, I jumped in, took the initiative, volunteered, offered my two widow's mites? 

As I look back on my life, I can trace a pattern of requests proceeding nearly all my involvements: Would you serve on the committee? Would you give your money? Would you help? A call. A question. An invitation. I tended to conclude that initiating action on my own was, well, pushy, bossy, even arrogant. Who did I think I was?

But Mary wasn't "invited." Strictly speaking, Jesus never said, "Hey, Mary, would you please do something especially outstanding for me right now? Something I can hold up as an example for all time to come?"

God gives all of us skills, talents, gifts, possessions, personalities. He creates us to be and to do, and to braid our being into our doing and our doing into our being. I don't wait to be invited to "be." Why would I have to wait to be invited to "do"?

A friend meets my eyes and offers a challenge: "What can you do that no one has ever invited you to do?" I make a list. I am amazed at the variety of very doable tasks I tally. I can put colors together in a room or an outfit. I can use word pictures to describe feelings and situations in ways that communicate clearly. I can see where efforts are headed before they get there. I can identify forces motivating relationships and negotiate through them. Most days, nobody specifically asks me to invest these abilities. Does that mean I shouldn't bring them forward?

Perhaps I need to grab hold of the reality that what God has equipped me to do, he has invited me to do.

Babies, Ducks, and Baby Ducks

Sometimes when all of life's gifts are being passed out, we spy one that is vibrant, tantalizing, and just perfect for us! We want it. We want that bold, patriotic duck. Suddenly, it gets handed to someone else, and because our heavenly language is limited, we don't understand why. That duck would have been perfect for us! We regarded it with awe and affection! We would have loved and cherished and chewed it. We would have named it "Quackers". Alas. We wander, bereft, confused about this rumored heavenly beneficence. Then, wonder of wonders, a voice calls our  name! It hands over a personally inscribed package on which is perched ANOTHER duck! A duck that matches our attire. A duck that speaks to our vivid personality. A duck for us to cradle and slurp and carelessly drop on the ground after the allure dissipates. Our duck. And we respond with joy and wonder and awe and never contemplate: did we really need a duck in the first place? Or does the tall being simply view our smallness, our newness, our simplicity and decide to be lavish once again?